Even though I love my mom with all my heart, and despite the fact that she means the world to me, she isn't the woman who raised me. My grandmother did. Ever since I can remember, whenever I told someone that I lived with my grandmother, they would ask me why, and I would always reply that it was a long story, to boring, and it didn't really matter. Well it is a long story, but it really does matter to me, and is as far from boring as something can get. I may not have had as terrible a childhood as some kids may have had, but mine still wasn't a piece of cherry pie. I've been thinking a lot about my grandma recently, about how much I miss her, but that's also got me to thinking about my past. I think I might tell you about it, about my unstable past, my roller coaster ride of a life.
My mother was really fucked up when she was younger. I'm talking drugs, alcohol, the whole shebang. She hung out with the wrong crowd in high school, lost her v-card when she was only 14, started smoking when she was 13. Things spiraled out of control when she graduated high school. She partied every night, did some pretty bad shit. She was married twice, the first guy was a real douche, and that's who she had my eldest brothers with. He abused my mom, as well as my brothers. She left him when she found my dad, and settled down a little bit, stopped doing drugs and stuff, but she was still getting drunk pretty much every night. When I was three my mom gave my brother, and my sister, and I up. (My two older brothers, had already been long taken away) From that time, til the time I was six, I went through probably four different foster homes. I was with my brother and sister in some of them, others we were miles apart.
The whole time I was being passed from foster home to foster home, my grandma was fighting tooth and nail to get custody of me and my brother, my sister went back with my mom and dad after a year. It was unheard of for a grandmother to adopt her grandchildren I guess. It only took two years for her to get my brother, and a year later she got me.
I remember balling my eyes out the day she finally got custody of me, and took my away from my current foster home. I had gotten really attached to them. I found out later though, that they were abusive, even though I have absolutely no recollection of it whatsoever, I guess I'm pretty good at blocking traumatizing things from my mind.
Growing up living with my grandmother, wasn't really the easiest thing. She had such old fashioned views on life, it was like she was living in the time when she raised my dad. We butted heads during my teenage years more than I can count. We would get into screaming fights at least twice a week. But she loved me more than anything, and I her.
By the time my grandma had adopted me, my mom had done a complete 360. She wasn't drinking, or partying, or doing drugs. She was a brand new woman. She hasn't touched a drop of alcohol in 14 years. My grandma never understood the connection my mom and I have. Even though she was really fucked up, and gave me up, I still forgave her. I didn't care about what she did in the past, as long as she was there for my future, clean and sober. My mom is my best friend, we share everything with each other, and I do mean everything. My grandma and I never had that connection. I do love her with all my heart, but I will never be as close to her as I am with my mom. Does that make me a bad person? Considering all she has done for me....
I appreciate her, and all the things she went through to get me when I was younger, more than words can say. I never told her that enough when I younger, and I still don't. She has never been in the best of health, but since last year things started to take a turn for the worse. She had stroke, and had to go into a nursing home. She started to get better though, and we had hopes that she would be able to leave maybe get a place to live around where my parents live, but recently she's been starting to get bad again, forgetting things, repeating herself, we think she might have Alzheimer, and/or dementia, the last time I talked to her on the phone she was babbling about complete nonsense, it broke my heart. And most recently we found out that her white blood cell count was really high, so they're testing her for leukemia. I sincerely hope that she doesn't. I can bear with her forgetting who I am, as long as she's still there. I'm not ready to lose her yet. there are so many things I need to tell her. I haven't seen her in over a month, and it's killing me inside. I miss her so much. The last thing I want is to lose her.
Sorry if this really bored you, I just needed to get all this out. Thanks for listening....
Until next time.....
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